What are your intentions? - part three in 'The boys of Baker street'
by TooManyChoices
Summary: Mycroft confronts John about where he's heading with Sherlock and John reaches a conclusion. Serious kissing, fondling and fluff. Still pre-slash. John's POV Thanks for all the wonderful feedback, if you keep enjoying it, I'll keep writing it! Reviews heartily appreciated. Still rating M to be safe.


The kitchen seemed unnaturally bright and quiet as John sat silently sipping his tea. He felt...displaced, as if he was both somehow more at home and yet strangely out of place at the small table. The night before with Sherlock had been confronting, exciting, bizarre and yet oddly familiar. It felt like pieces of his brain were all desperately battling for attention to try and deal with the confusing jumble. I need air.

Stopping to leave a note **Gone for milk, back later - John**, he grabbed his coat from the rack, and headed out for long, much needed, walk.

He still wasn't sure how a nightmare ended up with...well...with his flat mate's hand around his cock. He half wished he could shrug it off as an accident, but let's face it, it was as accidental as those stories told of people 'accidentally' tripping and ending up with a sauce bottle up their arse. Sherlock had offered, he'd accepted and...given half a chance, if that's how mind blowing it was going to be, he'd accept even faster if it was offered again.

On reflecting, John had ambled to a stop and with a start, he realised he'd ended up standing on a corner, shoulders loose, eyes glazed and mouth hanging open. Clearing his throat roughly, he continued toward a nice little cafe that served passable tea and where he was likely to be ignored with his thoughts.

20 minutes later, John sat alone at a table, tea untouched and he was as once again staring vacantly toward a blank wall less than three feet away. With the smallest of sounds, the chair beside him was pulled back and a tall well dressed man in a dove grey suit sat quietly down.

"John, how pleasant to find you here"

"Mycroft", John was pulled from his reverie, "I won't ask how you knew I was here"

"Excellent John, that will save me having to invent unnecessary falsehoods"

John was long used to Mycroft's games, however this morning he had no patience to play them. "Just get on with it Mycroft, why are you here?"

"For you John, I'm here for you. In the past 48 hours, the situation between you and my brother has...changed, let us put it"

"You have a bloody camera in my room?" _Why am I not in the least surprised_ "Do either you or your brother have the SLIGHTEST idea of social convention?"

"Oh please don't let us talk about social convention after the night you've just had"

"Jesus Mycroft, can we not discuss this"

"But John, we NEED to discuss this. You and I need to have a little chat about your 'intentions' with regards to my brother."

"My 'intentions'? What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Well John, you have taken your relationship with Sherlock, how do the young people put it, 'to the next level' in a fairly unmistakable way."

"I don't see how what Sherlock and I choose to do, or not do, is any of your business."

"Oh but my dear Doctor Watson, my brother's welfare IS my business, and I am here to ensure that that you have his welfare in mind too."

John stared at the older Holmes brother, feeling like he was being asked by a father whether he intended to marry the daughter he'd just deflowered and wondered if Mycroft had hidden a shotgun under the table.

"John, I know my brother may seem aloof and impregnable but you must know by now that the truth is far more complicated."

"Yes, yes I understand that..."

"I'm not sure you do John. Don't play games with my brother John, his heart is not a toy for you to discard after Christmas."

"I'd never..."

"What I'm trying to say Doctor, is that if you are confused, if you are conflicted, if you are at all unsure about the path you are currently travelling with Sherlock, then you need to step away from that path now."

"But..."

"Because you will break him John. If you walk away from this, Sherlock will shatter like glass. The only difference is that by leaving now, I may be able to repair what is left behind. If this goes further, my brother will be unsalvagable."

And without even waiting for a response, Mycroft rose from the table leaving John to consider what had been said.

_What the hell do I do now! _John thought through what had been said and the degree of concern Mycroft must have felt to have approached John. Mycroft made some valid points and John was well aware that he had privileged insight into Sherlock's complicated psyche. The stuck up, entitled, pretentious paper-pusher putting into words something that John, on some level, already knew.

_Should i walk away? COULD I walk away? _Certainly the past 48 hours had been strange but it hadn't been awful. In fact, parts of it had been bloody fantastic. _So what am I afraid of?_ Half the people they knew already thought they were a couple. More than once, Mrs Hudson had asked when John and Sherlock would 'make honest men of each other.' _Was it the label? _John's sister Harry was gay, and he was fine with that. He had gay mates and there had never been an issue. _But that's them, this is me, I'm not gay. I like women._ While that was unquestionably true, it was also clear that he liked Sherlock too. 'Liked him' with a fierce, unquestioning passion that left him breathless and sweating at the thought of Sherlock's hands on his body. So maybe it was simple as that, if he applied the same clinical, logical reasoning as Sherlock would, the answer was that he wanted Sherlock, and the only way way he could lose would be to lose Sherlock, and the only way to lose Sherlock would be to walk away. _So what's holding me back_? Fear...that was it, fear of stepping into the unknown. John knew the mechanics of male relationships, and for John, it was uncharted territory. For Sherlock, well who knows? But he trusted Sherlock, trusted him with his life. John knew he'd die before hurting Sherlock, and he knew, in the very core of who he was, that Sherlock felt the same about John.

_I need to get home._ John dropped a couple of pound on the counter and virtually ran home, fumbling his keys out of his pocket as he stormed the steps of 221B. Thundering up the stairs, he pushed open the door calling as he did.

"Sherlock!"

"Where's the milk?"

"Where's the...what?" The question slowed John's rush into the room.

"The milk, you said you'd gone for milk." Sherlock was in his chair by the fire, a book open on either arm of the chair and the newspaper open on his lap.

"Yes, well...not important. Sherlock, I've been thinking..."

"Well that explains why you've been gone so long"

"Very funny Sherlock..."

"Oh...was it? Sherlock gave John a look that said that he hadn't intended humour.

"Anyway...I've been thinking..."

"Yes, you said..."

Deciding that for once, actions would speak louder than words, John approached Sherlock, standing to the side of the armchair and as Sherlock turned his head and parted his lips to ask exactly 'what' John had been thinking, John showed him by leaning down and taking Sherlock's mouth with his.

He felt Sherlock's lips close under his for a moment, that blindingly fast brain processing the situation before the lips softened again, his long slender arm coming up before his hand cupped the back of John's neck and deepening the kiss.

_This is going well!_ He felt Sherlock'd lips part and his tongue gently requesting passage past John's teeth. _Am I ready for tongue? Where did Sherlock learn to kiss like this? Sherlock's been keeping at least SOME secrets from Mycroft at any rate._ Sherlock' tongue pressed again and John permitted access joyously, joining him in a delicate exploration, neither pushing or taking too much this early. After several lost, delirious minutes, John broke away, resting his head on Sherlock's to catch his breath.

"Unexpected." Sherlock's usual robust vocabulary seemed to have left him along with most or the air in his lungs.

"But nice?

"Oh yes, if you were trying to impress me with your oral skills, then I assure you that you've done so"

"That's not EXACTLY what I was trying to achieve, but it's good to hear I hit a pass mark"

"So what...exactly WERE you trying to achieve because whatever the point was, I suspect you've probably made it eloquently."

John straightened up, but Sherlock had other ideas. Rather than removing his hand from behind John's neck, he instead brought his other hand up and without warning, disrupted John's balance, toppling him into Sherlock's lap.

"NOW you can explain." The taller man continued, their faces now brought to equal level with John cradled at right angles to Sherlock's slender frame.

"Sherlock, I wanted to talk to you about the last couple of days, about what this means...to us...and whether we want to, how did you put it...explore further." Honesty was probably the best policy at the moment.

"So you kissed me?"

"It seemed a good way to start the conversation"

"It does seem to have...broken the ice"

Broken it, melted it and made a martini with it "I've never been much of a kisser, it always seems very...intimate. But you..."

"More intimate than what we did last night? You DO remember last night?" Sherlock looked slightly confused.

"Yes, of course I remember, and that was...that was brilliant, but kissing...there's...nowhere to hide. There's just the two people and...lips and tongue and...it just seems so...personal."

"But you do LIKE kissing? When you're kissed properly."

"God yes! And talking of properly kissed...where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"I read a lot, and the internet can be very instructional"

"You're kidding!"

"Of course I'm kidding John. In reality, I had a friend at university that was undertaking a study on sexual arousal through non-genital means and asked if I would partner up with them."

_I'm sure they did._

"In any case John, it's mainly just physics, timing and pressure. Obviously you need to adjust to allow for jaw structure, angle, height and mouth size but it's not complicated. Would you like me to teach you?"

"As an educational exercise...no thank you very much!"

"What about because I want to kiss you again...very badly"

John looked at Sherlock more closely, his pupils dilated, a light film of sweat made his skin shine just a little and although Sherlock had certainly caught his breath, the rate was certainly well above normal. Sherlock may have been carrying on a conversation about angles and pressure, but the degree which this situation was effecting him was all too clear. That Sherlock wanted him, and was holding back, waiting for John to be ready...to ask, was unbelievably hot.

"Sherlock..."

"Yes John?"

"Please snog me senseless, nothing would make me happier"

Sherlock reached forward, his hands on either side of John's head, long elegant fingers cupping his face and ears. Looking into John's eyes, he closed the gap inch by inch, those impossibly blue eyes never leaving his for a moment.

"I won't break Sherlock, I promise"

"I know John," Sherlock whispered, "I'm just savouring the moment. Some things are worth taking time over."

John had never been kissed like this. Sherlock lightly brushed John's top lip with his lower, a whisper of touch, gone, then back. Feather-like caresses, over and over. Occasionally his lip would be delicately captured between Sherlock's and then the pressure would lift again. Never often enough to be routine, always a little different from the time before. _I had no idea!_ Sherlock's breath ghosted over John's mouth, breathy pants like fingers brushing skin. John swore the number of nerve endings in his lips had trebled in a heartbeat and every touch sent blood shooting to his groin. _I'm losing myself._ He could feel Sherlock was in the same state, but every ounce of his attention was focused on what Sherlock was doing to his mouth.

Sherlock's thumbs were stroking gentle arcs on John's cheeks, pads brushing along John's cheekbones. Sherlock captured John's top lip between his and sucked gently, releasing it with a pop, his tongue followed and brushed along the newly exposed underside of John's lip. The feeling was exquisite and john reflexively captured Sherlock's tongue and sucked gently. _I want...I need!_ Sherlock pulled back slightly.

"Shh John, easy now. There's no hurry" Having reasserted the tempo, Sherlock returned to his ministrations, worshiping John through his lips.

The brief pause gave John a brief moment of mental clarity, realising that while Sherlock's hands were occupied, his own were unencumbered and the need to touch Sherlock, to increase contact was overwhelming. He brought his hands to Sherlock's chest, feeling his raised nipples through the thin cottons of his shirt. Sherlock groaned against his mouth and, struggling with his own need to increase friction, squirmed in the seat, grinding his erection against John. But Sherlock then lowered one of his hands from John's face to where it rested on Sherlock's chest, gently grasped it, and moved it to his shoulder.

"Too much John," he panted, "...can't think when you're doing that and I want to do this properly...just this once...please"

John nodded, raising his other hand to Sherlock'a face, burying his fingers in raven curls, understanding that for Sherlock, this wasn't a matter of control, it was a matter of pride. Sherlock was showing John that by choosing to stay...with him...with them...with this, it wasn't a risk, and that John wasn't the only one who was bringing experience to the relationship.

Slowly, achingly slowly, Sherlock proceeded deepening the kiss, sucking on John's lips, grazing his teeth with his own and teasing his way inside to explore John's mouth in the most intimate, sexually explicitly way possible. John didn't believe it was possible to climax from kissing alone, but if anyone could get him there, it was going to be Sherlock. Lost in the sensations, Sherlock's voice seemed to reach him from miles away.

"John, can I touch you? I need to touch you" Sherlock's voice sounded needy and strained, and John realised he was asking to satisfy his own needs as much as John's.

"God, I wish you would"

Sherlock palmed John's erection through his jeans, burying his head in John's shoulder and panted, desperately dragging air into his lungs and fisting his other hand in the cloth of John's shirt.

"I want you to come for me John, are you ready?"

John could feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes, _God, this man is beautiful, his own need is tearing him apart inside and he's asking if I'm ready,_ he nodded dumbly and recaptured Sherlock's mouth with his own, kissing desperately while Sherlock continued to stroke him through his jeans. John arched into the touch, for the first time since he was a teenager, coming messily in his jeans and loving every hot, sweaty, filthy moment. He groaned as Sherlock captured his lip for one long, last pull between his own, the sensitive flesh prolonging his climax and intensifying the feeling. Sherlock threw his head back against the back of the chair and took long deep steading breaths, while John did the same curled against Sherlock's chest.

"Christ Sherlock! Your uni mate deserves a bloody Nobel prize for that study. That was...that was..." John waved his hands feebly in a way he hoped expressed the degree to which he'd been undone.

Sherlock, still slumped against the back of the chair nodded and smiled though the muscles in his jaw remained tense, and John noticed that, for one of them, there remained an unresolved issue. Although Sherlock had been determined to make john the focus tonight, to leave Sherlock in this state would be nothing short cruel.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes John?"

"Fancy a shower...with me? Right now"

"Yes please. I could use a hand."


End file.
